


A Space Where Lambs Can Be Lions

by CaptainSchmoe



Series: Stuff Inspired by Stuff from This Little Septiplier Community That I’m In [4]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Bullying, Crying, Cuddling, Fluff, Friendship, GAAAAAAAAAAY, High School AU, Hugging, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Pastel!Mark, Romance, Singing, Slurs, Snuggling, anxious!Mark, apologies to anyone named Dustin or Blake, fucking lion king fuck yeah, gender expression issues, hand-holding, happiness, insecure!Mark, insecure!jack, looooootsa smoochin’, mentions of a desktop stripper, mentions of near-fatal teenage stupidity, mentions of non-vaginal blood, mentions of vaginal blood, music kids, punk!jack, those names are completely random I swear, typical high school music wing conversations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-23 12:59:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16619432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainSchmoe/pseuds/CaptainSchmoe
Summary: Dare Mark wear a soft pink sweater to school?(Second chapter is 90% snuggling if that interests you.)





	1. A Space Where Lambs Can Be Lions

**Author's Note:**

> Love how you can’t summarize a high school AU without making it sound dumb as fuck lol.

Silently studying in his room with his favorite wild boy in black by his side did no favors for Mark’s racing head. This was stupid. The entire reason he invited Jack over to his place was to tell him about this... thing he had an issue with. Not to have a normal study buddy lesson with him.

But... As much as he would like to trust Jack with this information, Mark was scared that he wouldn’t be into him anymore. It was such a huge clash with Jack’s style. Wearing pale, soft, feminine colors and fabrics. Pathetic.

“Mark?”

“Hm?”

“Something up? You look lost in thought again.”

“Oh.” _Probably because I was._ “Uh, I mean...”

Jack spun himself around to face him and scooted a little closer, taking care not to crush their papers under him. “You can tell me. You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

 _Well..._ Yeah, he could. Jack did make him feel safe. Jack never got upset with him for doing or saying something harmless. “Maybe it’d be easier just to show you.”

“Sure. Go right ahead.”

Jack waited patiently for Mark to open up his closet door and dig around in a pile of clothes lying scrunched up in a back corner. He found his favorite pink sweater, the one with the decorative white seams, and pulled it on over his current shirt.

Face red-hot, he turned to Jack, who seemed more curious than anything else. A tiny smile broke, and his cheeks turned rosy. “That’s cute.”

“You really think so?”

“I mean, it’d be cuter if you actually folded or hung your shirt so there’s not tons and tons of wrinkles in it, but yeah. Cute.”

Mark’s gaze drifted to his chest. “Glad you think so.”

“Yeah, I know you’re probably worried about being judged, but I’ve got your back.”

Mark sat back down on the bed, accidentally squishing a paper under his butt and readjusting himself off it. “It’s just really embarrassing that I want to wear more feminine clothes. Not like, dresses and heels, but like...” He tugged at the sweater. “This kind of stuff. Soft stuff.”

There was a pause in conversation, then Jack asked, voice slightly lower, “Is this _just_ a clothing style thing, or is it an actual questioning-your-gender thing?”

“No, no, no. I’m pretty sure I’m a boy.”

“Mark, seriously, I’ll still happily date you if you turn out to be a girl.”

“I’m glad you would, but I really don’t feel like a girl. I just feel like a soft boy who wants to be cute.”

“Aw, but you’re already cute,” Jack tried to assure him, complete with a pinch of the cheek. “Why I picked ya.”

“Jack, _please_ , you’re not getting it.” Mark was trying to hold back his irritation, but judging by the sudden pullback of Jack’s hand, some of it was breaking through. “It’s not an issue of me wanting to look cuter for you or anyone else. It’s an issue of me wanting to wear what makes _me_ , personally, happy and comfortable and being afraid to wear it because society looks down on men who dress like women.”

Another pause.

“I’m sorry, Jack.” Mark sighed. _Don’t yell at him._

“Have you told anyone else about this?”

“I’m scared to.” He’d gone out to the mall by himself and picked out this shirt by himself with his allowance. Neither his parents nor his brother knew, because he wasn’t ready to have to explain all this to them. Obviously, they weren’t _that_ closed-minded if they wholly accepted him partnering with some kid with lime green hair, fat black gauges in his ears, a black leather jacket, and arms freshly tattooed with a number of simple yet menacing-looking symbols that many would initially fail to recognize as merely coming from his favorite video games.

But somehow, this clothing thing felt different, and the frustrating thing was that he couldn't pinpoint exactly why.

“I mean, if I’ll be completely honest here...” Jack scooted to the edge of the bed, clasping his hands in front of himself. “Chances are that there’s gonna be that one or two kids who are gonna bully you. Probably call you the _other_ F-word.”

_Yeah. That’s my main concern._

“But on the other hand, I really don’t think most kids are gonna care. Pretty much everyone knows we’re a couple, but we’ve almost never been harassed for it.”

“Probably because no one wants to fuck with you or your gang.”

“Oh, it’s not a _gang_ ,” Jack said, rolling his eyes and making Mark laugh a little. “You make it sound like we hang out behind the school passing joints between us every day.”

“... _Do_ you guys hang out behind the school passing joints between you every day?”

“You’d be able to taste it if we did.” Right then, Jack kissed him to prove it. “Any weed in there?”

“Does weed taste like cherry Tootsie Pops?”

“You poor, innocent soul.” He ruffled Mark’s hair and kissed him on the forehead. “How did you survive as long as you did without me?”

It was supposed to be a joke question, but Mark started to legitimately wonder exactly that.

“So... would you like to wear that tomorrow? You really don’t have to if you don’t want to. Don’t think I want you to if you don’t.”

That was nice of Jack not to pressure him, but on the other hand, Jack’s very presence was instilling a greater level of confidence that wouldn’t have been possible otherwise. He was right; most kids didn’t actually give _that_ much of a shit about stuff like this, now that he thought about it. “Yeah. I want to do this.”

“You sure?” Jack put an arm around his shoulders. “I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

Mark leaned his head against Jack’s chest, tilting his face up to meet his eyes. “I think I can handle it if I’ve got you on my side.”

Jack gave him a loving little shake. “If you’re really sure...”

“I’m super-duper sure.”

“...I’m sorry if I upset you.”

“It’s okay. I know you were just trying to make me feel better.”

“No, I just need to shut up and listen more.”

Mark gave him a reassuring arm around his front. “It’s okay.” He pecked him on the cheek. “I still love you, Seán.”

He liked seeing the corners of Jack’s mouth turn up and make faint hints of dimples whenever he caught him off guard with his real name.

“...love you, too, babe.”

 

* * *

 

He practically felt the stares piercing into his body like arrows from all angles from the moment he walked into the building. This was such a stupid idea. Why did he do this? What was he thinking, believing he could handle this?

Mark tried to pretend there was nothing weird about him today and just go about his normal business while wearing that soft salmon-pink sweater with decorative white stitching. Though even he himself could notice the complete lack of eye contact he made with the other students, and the faster walking pace he took to get inside the relative safety of the supervised classrooms, away from the bustling, terrifying chaos of the packed hallways.

Yet as the day went on, no one seemed to comment on it. No one approached him to yell at him or call him nasty names or even just ask why. The only person who said anything to his face was Jack, who periodically smiled, winked, mouthed _Hey, cutie_ , or did something else along those lines. It was a little helpful, knowing that Jack was indeed right.

 

* * *

 

Until around the middle of the day, when Mark found a little slip of paper at the bottom of his locker.

Reading it brought a lump to his throat and made his heart quiver. He stuffed it deep in the pocket of his backpack, not wanting to carry it around any longer than absolutely necessary. Maybe he could use it as evidence later.

He passed by Jack in the hall, and beamed his usual smile at him. He was glad they weren’t able to chat, and even gladder that none of his teachers were big on group projects, because any sort of prolonged human interaction was going to make him cry.

 

* * *

 

There was a second piece of paper. Then three, then five. Mark didn’t want to read them. He resisted the urge to read them - going out of his way to stare at his locker door as he shoved them all in his backpack - knowing it would only make him that much more visibly upset and draw everyone’s attention in class. What were the teachers going to do? Demand everyone submit a sample of their handwriting? There were _hundreds_ of kids to look over.

It probably wasn’t the smartest idea to stick them all in his backpack. That just meant he could make himself hate himself later.

In a bizarre way, though, he almost craved it.

 

* * *

 

The last place Mark wanted to be was... well, anywhere when he was alone. But especially in the usual waiting-for-Jack space, between the halls inside the school and the outdoors. This little isolated lobby area where few people walked by at this hour and even fewer would hear sounds from, though they could plainly see into as only glass separated it out. Once a place of anticipation of spending the evening with his favorite boy, now a place to fear being trapped inside by any number of kids who had nothing but contempt for “bitch boys” like himself.

_no one actually likes guys like you_

_why do you think you have no other friends dumbass?_

_ur bf only picked you cuz ur both desperate fags_

_wouldnt it be funny if he dumped you for a girl? lol_

Why the hell did he keep these things, anyway? He told himself it could be used as evidence, but there were no suspects to link the notes to. It wasn’t anyone’s handwriting he recognized - not that he _could_ recognize anyone’s handwriting but his own and Jack’s.

All the notes were doing was make him hate himself. As expected. He turned away from the hallways inside, concealing his sobs.

There was no reason to believe that random pieces of paper had more truth than the people he knew and trusted. But the feeling ate at the back of his mind. His brain went into analysis mode, searching against his will for every possible hint that that these notes might have had a point.

_Jack had girlfriends before, didn’t he? Does he like girls more?_

_No, stop, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like you._

_Sometimes he has to tell me to stop hanging around him. Do I cling to him too much?_

_No, shut up, it’s normal to want space to yourself sometimes._

_But it_ is _true I have no other actual friends..._

_For fuck’s sake, that’s just because you don’t reach out to people._

_But it‘s hard to talk to people. What do I say? Why should they care? What makes me special?_

Always, his mind was so quick to spiral down into this hole, and always, he dug his nails in trying to stop sliding down and climb back out. Often, to no avail.

_I don’t get it, brain. Why are you doing this? I’m loved. Right? I’m happy... Right?_

Mark heard the door behind him open, and the surprise ceased all sounds coming from him.

“Hey, are you okay?”

He only turned his head a little bit so as not to reveal his tears and to see who was bothering him. He made out vibrant, fluffy blue hair. That was it. “Yeah, I’m fine.” _Please go away._

“You sure? I’m gonna feel bad leaving you here if you’re sad.”

_...Friends... I need friends..._

_This kid seems nice..._

Wiping his eyes, Mark tentatively turned his head back to the boy, a kid whose name he didn’t recall; must have been a couple years younger. And with his small frame, acne-littered face, and the meek and anxious way he peeked around corners, he definitely looked the type to become an easy bully target himself. Maybe he was. Maybe he knew exactly how Mark felt.

He spoke up before Mark could. “You want to come hang out with me and my friends? We’re super nice. We laugh a lot.”

“Um...” Whoa. He didn’t sign up for a whole bunch of people at once. But... A group described as “super nice” and which laughs a lot? That was sure enticing.

“You don’t have to. I just thought it would help you take your mind off... whatever’s on your mind.”

“No, I will.” He gathered his things, shoving the hate slips back into his bag pocket, and pushed himself off the bench. “My name’s Mark, by the way.” He extended his hand, and despite the fact that it must have been gross with the remnants of his tears, the boy graciously took it.

“Ethan.”

 

* * *

 

Mark’s first clue as to what kind of people music kids were was hearing a girl scream _“Ass choir!”_ beyond the doors to the instrument storage room. Ethan giggled, which told Mark it was okay for him to laugh, too.

“You come to the music wing much?” Ethan asked.

 _“YESSS!!!”_ yelled the same girl.

Through another chuckle, Mark answered, “Not really. I’m not a huge music person. Er, I mean, I’m not really a choir or band person. I like going to rock concerts with my boyfriend.”

“That’s okay. We’re cool with pretty much anyone who’s cool with us.”

Now that they were just through the doors, Mark could see that the girl who screamed “ass choir” was reading the answer to the group’s Hangman game off a piece of paper. Also, that Ethan had a lot of friends. Mark counted seven. It just boggled his mind. How did someone just casually make that many friends at once?

That being said, Mark recognized all of them, even if only by the bare minimum putting-a-name-to-a-face way of knowing them: Pam, Bob, Tyler, Wade, Brian, Kathryn, and Amy. All were scattered about the room, with a few of them lazing in some of the instrument cubbies.

“Hey, guys,” Ethan said. “Brought a new friend with me.”

_Whoa, he’s already calling me a friend? Don’t you have to be a little closer to start using that word?_

“What brings him here?” Bob asked.

“I just saw him alone and he looked sad.”

 _I think it’s pretty obvious I’m fucking sad._ There was no way his face and eyes weren’t puffy.

“We got the cure for that,” Amy replied, the sound of her voice confirming to Mark that she was the one who screamed “ass choir”.

Mark suddenly caught sight of the whiteboard in the band room nearby that had stick figure doodles and large text reading _Pam had a gay encounter last night! JEALOUS???_ All other text was too small for him to distinguish.

...What did Mark get himself into.

“What’s the matter?” she asked.

“Oh, uh...” This was not something he was comfortable sharing with just anyone. Jack, maybe. Maybe. But not a whole bunch of near-strangers. “I really don’t want to talk about it. It’s way too personal.”

“That’s fine.”

Bob suddenly went into command mode. “No one be nosy, all right?” his voice boomed.

“Oh, wait, hold on,” Mark said, suddenly whipping his phone out. “I should probably text my boyfriend and tell him I’m here instead of our usual meeting spot.”

“Who’s that?” asked Pam. “If it’s okay to know.”

“Jack McLoughlin.”

“Which Jack is that? Is that the always-wears-a-black-jacket Jack or the stuck-a-paper-clip-in-a-light-socket Jack?”

Bob furrowed his brow. “I thought Black Jacket Jack _was_ Paper Clip Jack.”

Mark paused his text, glancing between the two of them. “I... don’t think Black Jacket Jack is that stupid- He’s pretty stupid, but he’s not _that_ stupid. Even _I’m_ not that stupid.”

“Even Wade’s not that stupid.” Bob looked to him with a grin, others following.

“Hey,” Wade fired back with an accusatory point, “I’m not the one who downloaded a desktop stripper to Mrs. Jansen’s computer!”

“Hey, uh, you promised to shut up about that.”

Mark snickered as he remembered the gossip circulating the halls last year. The whole group was laughing, too - surprisingly, the loudest came from Tyler, who otherwise hadn’t made a peep the entire time.

 _Hey Jack, wound up hanging out with some ppl in the music wing so ill be there instead today ok?_ There. Sent.

Kathryn was relatively silently fidgeting with a color guard flag, designed to look like a sun setting - or rising - over a savannah, with a brilliant red sky behind the sun’s wavering form.

“Do you know what the band’s doing for marching band?” he asked her. _Real smart-sounding sentence you got there._

“We’re doing a Lion King show this year.”

“Oh, you’re in it?”

“Yup. I do color guard. So I wave this thing around.” She gave it a shake.

“Is it hard, coordinating everything?”

“I mean, kinda, it’s physically exhausting, and one of the other girls once accidentally smacked a kid in the face and broke his tooth, so...”

“Eugh.”

“But it’s fun.” Kathryn lifted up the flag. “I mean, how can you hate anything to do with The Lion King?”

“You know...” _Oh, God, why do you have to make this all about yourself, Mark. Stop doing that. Well, it’s too late to turn back now._ “My brother once joked I had a Scar voice. I don’t think I sound like him, but I don’t know.”

“Can we hear it?” asked Pam.

 _Oh._ All these people sitting and standing around him, eyes on him, asking him to perform a line or two. Uh, well.

“It’s okay,” she assured. “We won’t judge. Well, Bob might.”

 _That doesn’t make me feel better._ He sighed. _Here goes nothing._ Putting on his deep, smooth voice, he went for:

“But the king _is_ dead. And if it weren’t for you...” He pointed at Ethan, for some reason. “...he’d still be alive.”

Ethan’s eyes went wide. “...Whoa.”

“That was really cool,” Brian said.

“Yeah, I don’t think you necessarily sound just like Scar in the movie,” added Pam, “but your voice _would_ be super-fitting for him if you did play him. You could play a lot of villains, actually.”

Amy gasped. “You could make your own villain character!

“Yeah. The fluffy pink sweatshirt villain.” Mark planted his fist against his chest. “Striking fear in the hearts of heroes everywhere.”

“I mean, you get enough blood on it...” Bob said.

“That’s why it’s pink!” Ethan exclaimed. “You had a white sweatshirt and the blood turned it pink.”

“Ethan,” Pam said, “getting blood on white clothes isn’t gonna turn them pink. It‘ll just turn into this nasty shit-brown color.”

“...How do you know so much what blood on clothes looks like?”

“I have a vagina, Ethan.”

“Oh.”

The group burst out laughing.

“Duh, Ethan,” Bob jabbed.

“Well, _I_ don’t think about that stuff!”

Mark’s phone suddenly buzzed in his pocket with an _ok_ from Jack. “Okay, I might have to leave soon.”

“Wanna sing it before you have to go?”

Mark’s heart started racing again at Amy’s question. Already feeling like he knew the answer, he asked anyway: “Sing what?”

“You know.”

_Fuck._

The group was staring at him. But at least they were smiling. It wasn’t a judgy stare. Rather, an anticipatory one. They were about 99.9% likely to join in once he started. Still, it didn’t stop his face from heating up. How much heat could one face take in a day?

With a calming breath, he began, _“I know that your powers of retention...”_ The lights in everyone’s eyes - from the engaged and chatty Pam and Amy to the silent Tyler and Brian - sparked in interest, easing his nerves somewhat. _“...are as wet as a warthog’s backside...”_

 

* * *

 

Band geeks, huh? Or choir geeks. Could be either, or both. Perhaps it shouldn’t have surprised Jack that much. He always had this impression that that group was more inclusive and accepting of “different” or “weird” kids. After all, he himself was pretty involved with the more nerdy crowd, contrary to his appearance, so the idea of a non-music guy hanging out with music kids wasn’t too illogical.

Or maybe Mark had just figured out he really was one of them.

To be honest, Jack was just thinking that Mark was in need of some friends. Maybe it was the approaching winter season and the resulting drop in daylight hours, or maybe it was just one of those random spells, or maybe it was a rut of the "same-old, same-old" he was getting stuck in, but Mark’s mood the past couple weeks had been noticeably down. Mark himself didn’t seem to notice, but Jack sure did. Mark used to he such a _huge_ cuddle bug. In the weeks after Jack asked him out, Mark very often wanted to be touching him in some way. Not in public, not at school, no. But at home, he was more often the one to sidle up against to Jack while they did homework, or take Jack’s hand during the car ride home, or kiss him whenever he felt like it (which was a lot), or ask to spoon for a bit when they had nothing better to do.

Nowadays, it seemed like Jack was doing most of the initiating. Not like Mark suddenly disliked it, but it was concerning. Was he falling out of love with him?

No. No, that couldn’t be it, could it? If... If Mark... If he lost Mark...

_“YOU WON’T GET A SNIFF WITHOUT ME!!!”_

Whoa. Someone was getting _really_ into their Scar persona. Of course, this being the music wing and all, Jack wasn’t at all surprised that people would be breaking out into song.

_“So prepare for the coup of the century! Be prepared for the murkiest scam!”_

A chorus of people sang the hyenas’ part around him. Now that he was really listening... Was that... Mark?

_“Meticulous planning, tenacity spanning, decades of denial is simply why I’ll...”_

Oh, God. It was. That was totally Mark’s voice. All previous worries long forgotten, a huge smile cracked across his face, and he started running down the hall so he could see him in action before the song ended. Holy shit. That was Mark turning into a badass. Surrounded by the new friends he was talking about.

_“...be king undisputed, respected, saluted...”_

Jack peeked his head around the door.

_“...and seen for the wonder I am!”_

Holy _shit_. Mark was ridiculously into his part, with his head thrown back, eyes closed, arms reached out. The choir of friends surrounded him, equally playing their parts as he was, beaming infectious smiles, the ones along the opposite wall catching sight of Jack but never stopping.

 _“Yes, my teeth and ambitions are bared!”_ Mark emphasized the line with a slap of his hand like a commanding paw against the ground.

 _“Be prepaaaared!”_ the whole group sang.

Jack wanted to join in, but knowing how easily embarrassed and startled Mark was, he held back, merely watching his happy boy show off a new side of himself.

_“Yes, our teeth and ambitions are bared!”_

_“Be prepaaaared!”_

Only three of the “hyenas” let out a collective evil laugh, a chorus of high-pitched cackling that near-perfectly mimicked the hyenas in the movie; perhaps the other four weren’t comfortable, or maybe they just weren’t built for evil laughing.

But Mark was.

**_“Ah-hahahahahahahaaa!!”_ **

Jesus Christ. When Mark let his own out, he really _belted it the fuck out_ , filling the room with a slightly growly, roaring laugh, arching his back and balling his hands into fists, almost making Jack forget he was wearing a pink sweater.

“Holy shit, Mark.”

Mark jumped, whirling around to face Jack, face suddenly pink.

 

* * *

 

Now past that brief bit of embarrassment, Mark acquired a bounce in his foot in the car, energized by what just went down in the instrument room. Staring out at the hills rolling past them, the houses flying by, he fought the urge to keep humming “Be Prepared” over and over again.

“I think that’s the happiest I’ve seen you since the day I asked you out.”

Mark jumped and turned his head, so lost in his thoughts he almost forgot Jack was right there. “Huh?”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. I think that’s what you’ve been missing. Is some friends. You’ve been really down lately, and I think having more friends really helped you.”

What... What was Jack insinuating? That he thought Mark didn’t like being around him anymore?

“I’m still happy with you, though.” It was weak and quiet, even a little defensive - shit, was that rude?

“No, no, no.” Jack took Mark’s hand before he could say anything else. “I don’t mean like I think you’re happier without me. I’ll still be right here when you need me. I‘m sure you’ll still be here when I need you, too. Right?”

 _When you need me, too...?_ “Yeah, of course I will.”

“But I think you need other people, too. Everyone needs more than one person in their life. That way, you’re not, like... dumping everything on one person or clinging too much to one person, you know? Sometimes I'd rather vent stuff to my other friends instead of you because you might already be too stressed in that moment and I don't want you to get overloaded."

 _Clinging too much to one person..._ Mark did that, didn’t he? Clung to Jack a lot? Vented to Jack a lot? How much was too much? Did he already do it too much? Was Jack sick of hanging out with him three days a week after school, plus the weekends sometimes? That was too much, wasn’t it?

Then again, Jack was the one who initiated the current hand-holding, so maybe it wasn’t an issue?

The car pulled into the McLoughlins’ driveway and its engine was quieted.

“I think this’ll be healthy for you,” Jack said as the two slammed the doors shut. “I just want you to be happy, no matter what.”

It could have been his imagination, but Mark swore he heard Jack’s voice crack a tiny bit on that.


	2. I Picked You (Bonus Segment)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CUDDLEFEST INCOMING

“Jack?”

“Hm?”

 _Thumpthumpthumpthump_  went his heart. Again. Why did everything make him so nervous? “You like me for me, right?”

“Of course I do.” Jack lay back onto the bed next to him, draping an arm over his belly. “What makes you ask?”

“I...” Mark swallowed. “I don’t know. Never mind.”

“No, please. I want to know.” Jack gave his belly a little rub. “If I don’t know what’s bothering you, I can’t help.”

 _Trust him, Mark. He’s not going to leave. You didn’t do anything. You’re just asking a question._ “I don’t cling to you too much, do I?”

“No.” Jack pulled him in, closing what little gap was there. “Too much would be, like, this level of affection every single day of the week. We don’t see each other that much. Does that help, giving you some kind of a metric?”

Oh. That... Wasn't what he predicted at all. That was nice. Having specifics laid out did help a little. “Kinda, yeah.”

“I’ll tell you if it’s too much. Nothing personal, wouldn’t mean I suddenly didn’t like you. Sometimes we just need space, and that’s okay. It’s all part of that whole ‘communication’ thing, right?”

Jack was slightly rushing through his words as if he was scared of Mark believing the wrong thing.

“You can tell me if I’m touching you too much, too, okay?”

“But...” His eyes shying away, Mark murmured, “I feel bad saying no sometimes.”

“That’s okay. I can kinda tell if you’re not into it. You kinda shrink away from me if you don’t want to be touched.” Jack mimicked the motion. Did Mark really do that? “So if you’re not comfortable verbally saying, ‘Please don’t touch me right now,’ you can just do that. Like, move away from it so I know.”

Now was a good time to nestle into his body a bit. “Okay.”

“Aww."

God, it was so weird and a little stupid to really think about, Jack cooing over him like a baby, but Mark lowkey loved it and he... He wanted more of it. Just forget about all the shit from earlier today and just take in as much Jack as he could; have a moment where he knew that he wouldn’t be criticized for being too clingy and cuddly. For once, he actually pulled Jack down to him and planted a fat kiss on the tip of his nose, earning out of him a little giggle and a quick, innocent return kiss on the lips.

“Love ya, too, baby boy.”

He fucking _adored_ when Jack called him that.

_Desperate fags._

...He didn’t fucking adore _that_ thought.

“Mark?” Jack cupped a hand on his cheek. “You okay? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no, it wasn’t anything you did, I just...” _Sigh._ “Brain decided to remember something from today I wanted to forget.”

Jack got off Mark’s chest and lay beside him, still touching, resting his head in his hands. “I’m listening.”

“Sorry, like... I know this is stupid, but-"

“It’s not.”

“Just to make extra sure: you didn’t, like... settle for me because there wasn’t someone better, right?”

Jack was startled a few inches back, and now, having heard his own question out loud, Mark realized how truly insulting it was. “Wha- Who the fuck gave you that idea?”

“I’ve been getting notes in my locker...”

Jack rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Oh, for fuck’s sake...”

_You know something? Is this something that’s known to happen?_

“Twenty bucks says it’s Dustin and Blake.”

“Who?”

“Dustin Finnegan and Blake Todd. They're a couple of assholes who make fun of anyone and everyone for literally any reason. But they’re cowards who back down on an in-person confrontation the moment they realize they’re outnumbered. I caught Dustin sticking a note in my locker one time. When he walked past me and my friends sitting in front of the building one day, I called out to him, ‘Hey, Dusty, you wanna slip me another note?” Jack waved an imaginary piece of paper in his hand.

_“Dusty.” Heh._

“Didn’t get a single note after that.”

“So if he’s obviously scared of you, how come he’s sending _me_ notes? Shouldn’t he know better than to mess with someone you care about?”

“How do you know he knows we’re a couple?”

“Because some of them were saying things like, ‘He’s only with you because you’re both desperate fags’, or ‘Wouldn’t it be funny if he dumped you for a girl’, or ‘No one likes guys who dress like you’ and stuff like that.”

“Oh, babe...” Jack shifted onto his side, briefly running his fingers through Mark’s fluffy hair and then laying his arm back across his body. “I 100% guarantee they either have no idea what they’re talking about, or that they’re deliberately trying to get us apart somehow.”

“What would they have to gain from that?”

“Probably just the satisfaction of making other people sadder than they are, or maybe to make it easier to get to you even more once they get me out of the way. But I absolutely guarantee that’s not gonna happen. I’m with you because I love you.” He gave Mark’s belly a confirming squeeze. “End of story.”

So much love and admiration in those baby blues gazing down upon him. _Genuine_ love and admiration.

“I asked you - _you_ \- out for a reason. I picked you over other people for a reason. Lots of reasons, actually.”

Deep down, Mark wanted to hear why. After all the bullshit he had to read today, he needed to hear why. “What reasons?”

Jack smiled and scooted up the bed more so he could easily lean down and plant a kiss on his forehead. “I picked you because your smile and laugh were the most infectious of anyone I’d ever met.”

Mark couldn’t hold back a smile right then and there. _Is he going to start a huge cuddlefest? Please start a huge cuddlefest. I need it._

He got a kiss on the temple. “I picked you because you made me feel comfortable sharing my nerdy interests and didn’t judge me just because I dress so differently than you’d expect from a computer geek.”

Oh, God, yes, he was gonna get pampered right here and now. Jack was babying him, showering him with affection, and now Mark’s heart was fluttering with joy, his stomach bursting with butterflies, and there was nothing else he wanted to do than just wiggle deeper into the bedsheets and take it as it came.

A kiss on the cheek. “I picked you because you had talents and passions but didn’t have the confidence to go after them, and I wanted to cheer you on and push you past that barrier.”

 _Oh..._ A lump drew in his throat. That’s right. Mark wanted to go into engineering, and his teachers told him he had the mind for it, and he had the obsessive interest in the physics behind it all. But the high skill level required for the field was intimidating, and he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that he’d mess up something huge along the way.

Thanks to Jack, he got the courage to apply for a college well-respected for its STEM programs - and got in.

_He... He really does care._

On his ear. “I picked you because I wanted to find out if hugging and snuggling against you would be as soft and warm as I thought it would be.”

Mark hummed and got another kiss on his jawline.

“It is, by the way.”

Jack turned Mark’s head to reach the other side of his face. Other cheek. “I picked you because I couldn’t stop thinking about you when I got home. Everything I did, I kept thinking about doing with you. Homework.”

Bridge of the nose.

“Playing video games.”

Tip of the nose.

“Hanging around the tracks at night.”

Lips.

“Driving. Eating. Sleeping.”

Three more peppered along his jawline.

“I could _not_ get you out of my head.”

Lips again. Both of his hands ran through his hair and massaged his scalp. Tingles coursed down Mark’s spine.

“I picked you because you told me that I made you the happiest you’d been in years.”

No kiss. Jack’s stomach quivered. Was he starting to cry?

“To this day, I still can’t get over the fact that you said that.”

He was definitely starting to cry with the way his voice was cracking. It was making Mark cry, too.

”Don’t _ever_ let anyone get it in your head that I’m ‘settling’ for you because I couldn’t find someone ‘better’.” He emphasized the sarcasm with air quotes. “There isn’t someone better.“ A tear dripped onto Mark’s cheek, and he wiped it away with his thumb.

Mark had to say something. In a strange reversal of the norm, he wrapped his arms tightly around Jack’s body, dragging him down against his own, rubbing his back. “I’m not gonna leave you.” He kissed Jack on the first part of his face he could reach - his cheek. “I promise.”

”...Would it be okay if you spent the night? It’s Friday.”

“Yeah. That’s fine.”

“I’m gonna go turn off the light.” As he got up to do so, he asked, “You wanna do like we were just doing or do you wanna spoon?”

“What we were just doing. I wanna hug you back.”

“Okay.” With the room now too dark to see, Jack crawled back into bed, feeling for Mark and being accepted into his open arms. “Sorry for keeping you,” he murmured. “Just really need to hold you right now.”

“It’s okay.” Mark gave him a few gentle pats on the back. “Me too.”

Never would he have guessed Jack would be insecure. Maybe that was why he was always insisting on helping him with stuff. And doing this kind of mushy romance stuff. Maybe _he_ was paranoid about Mark dropping _him_ for someone “better”. Who or what might have gotten it in his head, Mark didn’t know, and right now, Mark didn’t care.

Because right now, it was an obvious non-issue.

“One more kiss?” Jack asked.

“Yes, please.”

It took a couple seconds to find each others’ faces, but they found them, and _God_ , maybe it was the lack of light, but this one was so _warm_ from all the pent-up love, and so _sweet_ from the candies Jack was often caught sucking on, and Mark’s core filled itself to the brim with the joy of knowing with absolute certainty that this relationship wasn’t going to end anytime soon.

“I love you, babe,” Jack said, resting one ankle across Mark’s.

“I love you, too, Seán.”


End file.
